


A Life In Your Shape

by Silverofyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Haikyuu!! Chapter 402: Final Chapter: Challengers, Tooth Rotting Fluff, but you dont have to squint too hard lol, seijoh4 if you squint, to this day i still dont know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverofyou/pseuds/Silverofyou
Summary: A sweater, a rainbow, and a ring.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 22
Kudos: 119





	A Life In Your Shape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wizardabigail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardabigail/gifts).



> Happy birthday to the most beautiful, most wonderful woman in the world, and the light of my life (*^▽^*)ﾉ♡
> 
> \--Title taken from Strawberry Blond by Mitski--

It had been one of the clearest, warmest days of the month when Takahiro left his house. There hadn't been a single cloud in the sky. The air had been warm, barely a light breeze stirring the leaves in the trees, which is why he’d gone out with only a loose shirt, jeans, and a thin cotton jacket. And no umbrella. 

When he got off the train in Tokyo, saw the threatening gray clouds, and felt the cold air on his barely-covered arms, he groaned. He  _ prayed _ that he would be able to walk fast enough to beat the rain.

He grabbed his duffel bag and started to walk. He knew the way by heart now, after coming to Tokyo every other weekend for over a year. It was a 20 minute walk, more or less, from the station to Issei's apartment. Issei usually picked him up, but this time he said he'd left his car at the workshop so Takahiro would have to walk. Takahiro had sighed loudly over the phone, but Issei had pointed out it would be good for his heart. Takahiro privately thought it probably had more to do with toning his legs or something.

As he walked down the crowded streets of the city amongst the frenzy of people rushing to get to their destinations before the oncoming storm, he felt calm. His life in Miyagi, although not boring, was uneventful, even more so now that he was in between jobs after having been-- unfairly!-- laid off from the last one. So these biweekly visits-- weekly now that he had more free time-- were what he looked forward to the most. Long distance had never been an issue for either of them, since they both agreed that their relationship went beyond mere physicality, and they were only an hour-long train ride away from each other. But that didn’t mean Takahiro didn’t miss kissing and touching and curling up in bed with Issei like crazy every single day they were apart.

Takahiro felt the first drops of rain when he was about ten minutes away from Issei’s. He quickened his pace and cursed the absence of an umbrella and a thicker jacket, because the air had turned chilly, and the drops, spare as they were, were icy cold. He hoped he’d be lucky and the rain would stay that way, just a couple of big drops and a little bit of cold air-- but he had long ago stopped considering himself lucky. 

Five minutes from the apartment, he was soaked. His hair, which he'd decided to keep longer than he did in high school, was plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck, and it made water fall directly into his eyes. He didn't bother pushing it back. His jeans felt heavy, the cotton jacket was completely useless now, and the shirt underneath basically fused with his skin. He didn't even want to think about the state of his duffel, so he simply avoided looking at it.

He really hoped there’d be something warm to eat at Issei’s.

\--

When Issei opened the door, Takahiro expected nothing different from the unimpressed expression he got. He threw Issei a grin and stepped through the doorway, dripping all over the hardwood. Issei raised an eyebrow at the mess, and Takahiro shook his head for good measure, sending droplets flying everywhere. 

"Welcome home," Issei deadpanned, once Takahiro had taken off his shoes and started the process of peeling off his soaked socks. "I'm showing you no sympathy because you should've known better than to come without an umbrella."

"I didn't know it'd be raining this hard, it was warm as fuck in Miyagi," Takahiro replied, taking off his jacket, leaving it in a heap on the floor next to his duffel. Which he still refused to look at. Issei sighed. "Now, are you going to help me out of these so I can kiss you or are you going to let me die of hypothermia? 'Cause you might be the one burying me, but you'll also be the one paying for my funeral, so you're not even getting money out of it."

Takahiro took a step forward, arms open, and a wicked smile on his lips. Issei immediately took a step back. 

"Don't you dare," he said, putting an arm out and stopping Takahiro in his tracks. Then he smiled, took one of Takahiro's hands in his, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Despite the playfulness, Takahiro felt a shiver that had little to do with the cold go up his arm. He didn't know how, but no matter how many years passed, nothing and no one affected him as much as Issei did. “Go get the bath running, I’ll get you a towel and clothes.”

Takahiro started for the bathroom. “I brought my own, don’t worry--” 

“‘Hiro,” Issei interrupted. “I don’t think a single piece of clothing in that bag of yours is dry.”

Takahiro finally looked back at his duffel next to the door; it was even more soaked than he was. Oh, well. He liked wearing Issei’s clothes anyway. Issei simply shook his head and went into his room while Takahiro went into the bathroom to start filling up the tub.

\-- 

There was nothing as pleasantly painful as sliding into hot water while one’s entire body was almost numb from the cold. Takahiro hissed as soon as he put one foot in, waiting for his toes to stop tingling painfully before he put in the other one and lowered himself into the bathtub. Everywhere the water touched him he felt like tiny needles were trying to make their way into his skin, but he submerged himself up to the neck anyway. 

The bathroom quickly filled with steam. When the cold had finally seeped out of his bones, his brain started to fog, and he felt himself start to drift off. He remembered one time back in Third Year, during one of many training camps, when practice had been long and fulfilling but more exhausting than usual, he, Issei, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi had decided, God knows why, that trying to squeeze the four of them into a single, overflowing bathtub would be a good idea. 

“Mattsun, that’s my foot!” Oikawa had whined, as they tried to arrange themselves into the closest thing to a comfortable position. Takahiro hadn't missed the way Oikawa clearly made sure that he’d be touching Iwaizumi the most. Apparently Iwaizumi had caught on, if the light blush on his cheeks was any indication. Looking back, Takahiro was sure it had had nothing to do with the steam surrounding them. 

“Matsukawa, get your foot  _ away  _ from there.”

“You get your dick away from my foot.”

“Aw, Matsu. Don't ask for things you don’t want.”

In the end, they’d managed to make themselves fit in a mess of limbs and sloshing water: Iwaizumi and Issei resting against opposite ends of the bathtub, Oikawa and Takahiro between their legs, backs against their chests. Still, the bathtub was small enough that Takahiro’s and Oikawa’s legs were tangled in the middle, everyone’s knees and elbows poking out and jabbing into each other’s sides. But by some kind of miracle, they were comfortable.

After a bit, they had settled down and the steam had turned the atmosphere into something calm and soft, and something else Takahiro still wasn't able to describe. He remembered one of Oikawa’s hands holding Iwaizumi’s, their fingers intertwined. The other hand had been resting on Takahiro’s thigh, and he remembered the warmth that shot up his leg with every trace of his fingertips. He remembered the feeling of Issei’s breath on the back of his neck, the ghost of a light brush of lips on his shoulder. He remembered the way Oikawa had looked at the two of them with hooded eyes and pink cheeks, the way Iwaizumi’s and Issei’s arms overlapped on the edge of the tub, the way Iwaizumi closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Oikawa’s shoulder. They had stayed like that for a long time.

He was drawn away from his thoughts by a click from the door. He blinked, surprised at the warmth that had pooled in his chest and belly, and turned to look at Issei, who was looking at him from the door with the barest hint of a smile, holding a towel and what looked like pyjamas. 

“You do realize there's no one else here, right?” Takahiro said, nodding to the door Issei had just locked. 

“Force of habit,” Issei returned, placing the bundle on the countertop. Then he started to take off his shirt, his back to Takahiro, and Takahiro let his eyes roam over the muscles shifting under his skin, let himself stare at the dip on Issei’s lower back once he started to pull off his pants, underwear and all. 

“You’ve lived alone for three years, idiot.” Takahiro’s voice was drowsy, and his mouth felt dry. When Issei turned around, Takahiro’s heart skipped a beat; every single time he saw Issei naked, he felt an affection and desire and  _ yearning  _ in his chest he couldn't describe. Takahiro extended his arms towards him, pulled him into a kiss even before he had time to fully get into the tub. Issei laughed against his lips.

“Hello, my love,” he muttered into Takahiro’s mouth. He always saved the endearments for moments like this-- the first kiss of the weekend, the heated whispers when all they could see and feel and hear was each other, the first words of the morning. Takahiro treasured them.

Issei finally got into the bathtub, his legs on both sides of Takahiro’s thighs. Takahiro leaned forward and ran a hand through Issei’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Issei turned his head and kissed the inside of his wrist, tickling him. 

“You’re not supposed to be laughing,” Issei informed him, intertwining their fingers and lowering their hands into the water. He rested his opposite elbow on the edge of the tub and leaned his head on his hand, never taking his eyes off Takahiro. “That’s supposed to be an erogenous zone.”

Takahiro snorted. “That's a big word, Matsu.” 

“Thank you, I’ve been reading the dictionary in my free time.”

“In order?” Takahiro mirrored Issei’s pose.

“Mmhm.” Issei’s eyes were dancing, and it made Takahiro’s chest burn.

“How sexy of you,” he drawled, curling his leg around Issei’s waist, pushing his heel against his lower back to pull him closer. “Let’s find other  _ erogenous zones _ then, yeah?” Issei laughed, low and easy, and let himself be pulled in. The arm that had been resting on the edge of the tub settled on Takahiro’s knee, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles that kept sending bolts of heat through Takahiro’s skin, making him a little dizzy. 

“Like that?” 

Takahiro hummed, not trusting himself to speak.

He let himself stare at Issei for a bit, and Issei stared back. Issei’s hair had started to get damp with the steam, his curls sticking to his temples, and a tiny bit of frizz gave his head a soft halo. His cheeks were tinted pink. Takahiro ached to touch them, even more than he’d ached to even  _ see  _ them the entire week they were apart. He didn't know what kind of face he was making, but it made Issei tilt his head slightly, eyes turning soft. 

“What are you thinking about?” His voice was low, relaxed. Curious.

Takahiro didn't reply immediately. He simply leaned even closer, placed a finger underneath Issei’s chin, and aligned their mouths. He felt the ghost of Issei’s exhale against his slightly parted lips. 

“How much I can't wait to move in with you,” Takahiro breathed, and kissed him. Issei made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, and, letting go of Takahiro’s hand, managed to pull him onto his lap in one smooth motion. The water sloshed over the edge, and Takahiro made a mental note to be careful when getting out later. 

Issei wrapped his arms around Takahiro’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest. Takahiro repositioned himself so his knees would be on either side of Issei’s thighs and he could straddle them. He put both arms around Issei’s neck, his fingers playing with the damp curls at the nape of Issei’s neck as he deepened the kiss.

Issei’s lips were soft and warm, and Takahiro tasted cinnamon when he licked into his mouth. He distantly wondered if he’d saved him some of whatever he’d had for dessert. 

Takahiro felt Issei’s hand trace up his spine, raising goosebumps in its wake, aided by the loss of the warmth of the water on his upper back. He didn't try to suppress his shudder, and Issei’s other hand tightened on his hip. Takahiro pressed even closer, grinding his hips a little, making them both gasp.

Soon their breaths turned short and rapid, water combined with sweat, hearts began to stutter. Takahiro gripped Issei’s shoulders, threw his head back as he let Issei’s mouth leave a path of kisses and bruises on his neck, as he let Issei take him apart with his lips and tongue and hands. As he did the same in return.

Takahiro couldn't wait for this to be his every day.

\---

They dried off together in comfortable silence when the bath water had gotten too cold to be pleasant anymore. Though it was still afternoon, they both changed into pyjamas. Issei had lent Takahiro some soft cotton pants that he had to roll up a bit at the ankles, and a warm, cozy sweater that was slightly too long. He himself was wearing shorts-- despite the fact that it was going to be  _ freezing  _ once they got out of the bathroom-- and a long-sleeved shirt. 

Once they finally padded out of the bathroom, Takahiro asked, “Are we going to watch something before dinner?”

As he turned around, the only reply was the click of a phone camera. He raised his eyebrows at Issei, who was typing furiously on his phone. He waited patiently. Issei spent a couple more seconds looking at his screen, reading the reply and typing something back with fast fingers.

“Oikawa says he wants to eat you,” he finally said, still not looking up. Takahiro’s eyebrows inched up even higher. “Iwaizumi says to never let you out in public wearing that sweater.” He walked the few steps between them and showed him the phone screen. There Takahiro was, hair sticking up, an unimpressed look on his face. The sweater he was wearing hung loose on his shoulders, the sleeves reaching way past his fingertips. He had to admit - that, paired with the dim, grey light from the window, softened him around the edges a little bit. He felt heat climb up to his cheeks despite himself. Issei put the phone in his pocket and tugged on the hem of the sweater, pulling Takahiro closer. 

Takahiro made sure his hands were completely covered by the sleeves before putting his hands against Issei’s cheeks. He closed his eyes and let them crinkle at the corners the way he knew drove Issei crazy. He felt Issei’s soft, pleased hum against his chest as he put his own hands over Takahiro’s.

“And what if I wear this sweater the next time they visit,” Takahiro said, opening his eyes and tilting his head innocently. “Would you not let me?”

Issei leaned closer and pressed a soft, short kiss to his lips. “I would let you,” he said. Then he added, “I’ll just have to eat you before Oikawa can.”

Takahiro let his arms fall from Issei’s face and laughed. Then he took him by the hand and pulled him towards the kitchen. “See, now you’ve made me hungry.”

Issei just snorted and followed.

\---

It was still pouring outside when they settled on the couch for a movie. Issei put his arm around Takahiro after setting his empty bowl on the table, and Takahiro tucked himself into his side. He buried his face in Issei’s neck, took a deep breath, and let Issei’s scent fill his lungs. The sweater Takahiro was wearing smelled a lot like him, but there was nothing like the clean scent of soap and  _ Issei  _ that clung to his skin. He pressed a kiss to Issei’s jaw and then moved to rest his head on his shoulder. Issei kissed the top of his head in return.

20 minutes into some bad American romcom they had found on TV, Takahiro felt Issei move his attention from the screen to him. He curled up more and buried his face against Issei’s side, knowing what was coming.

“So what happened this time?” Issei’s voice was calm and soft, and Takahiro both loved and hated it. 

He stayed quiet for a bit. Issei didn't press. Then he said, his voice muffled against Issei’s shirt, “It really was nothing.”

“It’s always nothing, ‘Hiro. There has to be  _ something  _ if it’s your fifth job in less than a year.” Issei’s fingers were running up and down Takahiro’s arm, soothing and gentle. “And they must’ve given you an official reason.”

Takahiro let out a defeated sigh, but still didn't pull back. Issei’s movements didn't falter. “The official reason was 'unprofessional behavior,’” he mumbled.

Issei’s hand paused to slap him lightly on the arm. “ _ Again?” _

“It’s not my fault I get bored!” Takahiro finally pulled back and pouted. Issei let his hand drop. “Everything was so quiet all the time, Issei. I’d gotten yelled at for falling asleep on my shift, so I started walking around. And  _ that  _ got boring, so I started talking to some people--”

“Of course you did.”

“-- And they actually seemed to enjoy the conversation! They’d tell me about their books and why they were reading them, and some of them actually had pretty hilarious comments…”

Issei gave him an unimpressed look. “So obviously you laughed.”

Takahiro nodded enthusiastically, glad that Issei got it. “Obviously! Man, I don't know who might have complained. No one seemed bothered by my presence.”

“Yeah, really weird. Who might have complained about someone talking and laughing in a library. Couldn't have been me,” Issei deadpanned. 

Takahiro pouted again, crossing his arms for good measure. Sure, maybe he’d been a  _ little _ too loud, but still! He could have just had a warning! Okay,  _ another  _ warning. He just didn't have to get fired. Issei softened a little and leaned in to kiss the pout off Takahiro’s lips, then settled his arm on the back of the couch and turned to face him more fully.

“Y’know, maybe this time it was kind of justified,” he said. His tone was light, but Takahiro knew he was trying to be serious. Takahiro crossed his arms more tightly. “This was definitely not the same as the staples case.”

Takahiro groaned. “Don’t remind me. What the fuck does ‘stapling does not reach desired standards’ even mean?”

Issei laughed, touched the tip of Takahiro’s ear lightly with his finger. “We’ll find you the right job,” he said, voice soft but with a confidence that surprised Takahiro. It made him want to sit up straighter. “We just need to look harder.”

Takahiro felt himself melt a little bit. There was something about Issei’s use of the word “we” that made warmth swell in his chest and spread all over his body. He uncrossed his arms, took Issei’s head in his hands, and kissed him hard. He thought  _ I love you, I love you,  _ and knew Issei felt it in the kiss. When they pulled apart, the seriousness of the moment had melted away. 

They resettled on the couch in their original positions and, turning back to the screen, Takahiro said, “This goddamn movie...I really want to kill that child that was dressed up as Satan. And the woman for not being patient for three more minutes. God. I’m even more mad because he pressed the right floor  _ from the start.” _

Issei sighed dramatically and Takahiro felt him shaking his head. “I feel so bad for their current partners, honestly. These dumbasses are both in love with a fever dream.”

Takahiro took one of Issei’s hands in both of his and kissed his knuckles. “Pathetic, honestly.”

\---

“Pause the movie, I need to piss.” Takahiro shifted, sitting up. Issei, who looked like he’d been nodding off, grunted. He patted blindly around him for the remote and hit pause. He blinked blearily at Takahiro and yawned.

Takahiro stood up and stretched his back. He padded to the bathroom, socks silent against the hardwood floor. 

When he came back into the living room, he noticed the rain had finally let up. Issei had these really wide windows that looked down into the city, and the apartment was high enough that the view was quite stunning. He walked over to one of them and let out a gasp.

“Oh that’s beautiful,” he breathed out. “Issei, look, this is the most vibrant rainbow I’ve ever seen.”

He kept looking at the arc, the colors incredibly bright against the still-clouded sky. He could see the whole curve perfectly, from start to end. 

After a few seconds of not feeling Issei’s presence next to him, he turned around, thinking Issei had fallen asleep again-- And froze.

At first he didn't really process what he was seeing. Issei was still on the couch, next to the armrest closer to Takahiro. He was kneeling, looking comically tall. He was holding something between his thumbs and forefingers with both hands, something small, and what--

“Oh,” he exhaled.

Issei smiled, warm and big and overflowing with love and a tenderness that threatened to split Takahiro’s chest in half. Takahiro moved towards him, and it felt like he was floating. He felt his eyes go wide, his mouth a little slack, and he was definitely blushing. His heart was beating so fast it was making him dizzy.

“Hanamaki Takahiro,” Issei said, voice light and tilting. It was his joking voice, but the smile never left his face, the tenderness never left his eyes. Takahiro took a step closer, until only the armrest of the couch was between them. “Would you, with the blessing bestowed upon us by the gay deities in the form of this ridiculously perfect rainbow, allow me to love you and only you for the rest of my life, and be the only one you love in return?” He shifted on his knees, licking his lips. Takahiro held his breath. Issei’s voice became serious and gentle when he said, “‘Hiro. Love of my life. Marry me?”

Takahiro started to cry. His cheeks got wet and his nose was runny and his face felt so, so hot. It was unbelievable how Issei’s ridiculous,  _ ridiculous  _ speech had turned him into the mess he was right then. Takahiro simply stared at him, sniffling. Issei’s smile never faltered.

Takahiro moved his hands to cup Issei’s, which still held the ring between them. “How could I even think of saying no,” he said, voice wavering, leaning in close enough that the tips of their noses touched, “when the gay deities themselves sent such an obvious message?” He could feel the smile splitting his face in half almost painfully. 

“I guess I do make a pretty compelling argument,” Issei replied. His eyes fluttered shut when Takahiro rested his forehead against his. 

“Hmmm.” Takahiro brought their lips closer, kept his just a breath away. He closed his eyes too. “Yes, Issei. Love of my life. I’ll marry you.”

Issei didn't wait a second more. After a sigh of relief (as if he had been fearing any other answer, to Takahiro's dismay), he closed the distance between them in a bruising kiss. It tasted like salt. Takahiro couldn't help but laugh against his mouth. He felt like he was going to float away with happiness.

When they pulled away, with their eyes bright and their cheeks flushed, Takahiro finally let go of Issei’s hands. He extended his own left hand and let Issei put the ring on his finger. He finally looked at it properly. It was simple; the band was golden and thin, and atop it sat a tiny, dark red stone. Takahiro looked at it intently.

“Garnet,” Issei explained. Takahiro could feel his eyes studying his face. “Because of--”

“Persephone, yeah,” Takahiro said, feeling a little breathless. It was a reference to their ongoing joke about Issei’s job at the funeral home. He felt adoration swell in his heart once again. 

“I know it’s supposed to be given when two people are going to be separated by a long journey, blah blah, but I’m not going anywhere without you, so.”

Takahiro finally tore his gaze away from the ring and raised an eyebrow at him. “So you just wanted to call yourself king of the underworld and make me your queen, is that it?”

Issei’s smile widened. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I take it back,” Takahiro said, pretending to take off the ring. “I can't do this--”

Issei grabbed him by the waist and pulled him onto the couch with him. Among their laughter, Takahiro’s heart soared.

\---

“Issei,” Takahiro said later, as he rested against Issei’s chest. Night had fallen around them, and the living room was only illuminated by the TV screen and the glow of the city.

One of Issei’s hands was in Takahiro’s hair, combing gently through the strands. The other one was draped over Takahiro’s bare chest, holding Takahiro’s own hand loosely. Although their eyes were focused on the TV, Issei kept brushing over the ring on Takahiro’s finger almost reverently-- as if he couldn't believe Takahiro had actually agreed to wear it. 

“Yes, ‘Hiro?” His voice was barely above a whisper, smooth and relaxed. 

Takahiro twisted until he was facing him, and he rested his chin on Issei’s chest. “How the  _ fuck  _ did you manage to predict a whole ass rainbow?”

Issei laughed in surprise then, sharp and loud. Still smiling, he rubbed at the back of his neck in an uncharacteristically sheepish gesture. “I sort of carried the ring around in my pocket whenever you visited to take it out when it felt right in hopes that it’d look like I planned it all along."

Takahiro stared.

“Did it work?”

Takahiro stared harder. Then, keeping as straight a face as he could, he said, “Absolutely not.”

Issei’s smile could have melted the Underworld. 

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand billion thanks to Q, the bestest kindest most amazing beta ever. Without them this would not have been what it is. And thanks to Ko and Cass for letting me bump ideas off them and for threatening me with bodily harm after every scene i wrote <3333 love u both


End file.
